


The High Sorcerer and His Heart

by Sakuraiai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Bakery, Borderline Personality Disorder, Demon Dean Winchester, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magic-Users, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Potions, Sorcerers, Soulless Sam Winchester, Threesome - M/M/M, good vs bad, split
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-05-07 20:59:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14679399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakuraiai/pseuds/Sakuraiai
Summary: (for my darling longkissgoodnightbatmanandtwofac)Naomi hated her stepson, Castiel's relationship with Dean Winchester.He was so below in class, as just a pitiful mage, not a High Sorcerer like her Castiel of the House of Novak.Until she found out Dean was the All Seeing Eye. A vessel to one of the most powerful entities in the realm. And the very thing she needed to take over the kingdoms.But before she could harness his power, she needed him and Castiel to split apart...and what best way to do that than to split Dean Winchester apart with a magical entity that separated a mage's soul? A Rifter.However, in doing so, she lost the Rifter to the world, and now all of the sorcerers in her kingdom are under threat of being split.Now she has two of her royal court's High Mage's split into two, the goodie two shoes Dean making nice with her stepson, and the demon Dean running around Castiel, and destroying everything she built.No one can know what she has done, unless she wants to feel the wrath, and the intense power her stepson Castiel Novak truly possesses.After all, you don't get between the High Sorcerer and His Heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the lovely prompt my dear, I hope I do it justice.
> 
> Just a quick entrance, all will be explained as it goes forward.  
> Also, I won't be writing this as quickly as I'd like to, because of other commitments and other fics.  
> But stay tuned~!

The market place was swarming with creatures of all kinds, basilisks slithering along the ground, angels floating high in the skies, centaurs hooves padding against the dirt ridden paths, candle light flittered back and forth meandering through the stalls, harpies and satyrs talking amongst ones selves as they travelled through the labyrinth of the over bursting market place. 

Fear engulfed Victor as he tightened his robe around his lithe frame, holding his head high, he hoped that the royal seal placed upon the clasp of his robe shone out to those who feared the kings, and hid within the deep blue robe to those whom wanted something against the hierarchy. 

Clutching the small tomb close to his body, Victor peered into the parchment paper and reread the article that had answered all of his prayers. Shivering at the feathers of a Great Eagle that had brushed passed him he walked ahead through the myriad of creatures and stalls surrounding him. Stopping in front of a stall, he leaned into the puce coloured ogre standing on the opposite side. 

“I beseech you to tell me where to find The King of Hell,” The once gossiping marketplace suddenly quietened, as if the world was put on mute. Thousands of eyes glared at the blonde man.

“We do not talk of his name out loud,” The ogre muttered, pushing him back from the stalls. “Leave before I make you,” 

Victor stumbled back, bumping into the stalls behind him as the others wondered back to what they were doing. 

“Now what am I going to do?” Victor dragged his leather bound feet over the dirt ridden paths. A warm hand tapped on the lapels of his robe, turning he saw a vision of beauty bestowed upon him. An angel had settled to the ground and motioned for him to follow her into a dingy alleyway leading through the middle of the market place. Should I follow the beauty to my possible doom? Victor thought to himself; he reached for the hilt of a dagger strapped to his waist and followed the angel.

“You are looking for Crowley,” Her voice sounded like chiming bells as she spoke, walking through the crowd around her. 

“Y-yes,” Victor started, finding it rather difficult to follow her, she seemed to cut through the creatures with the utmost of ease. She stopped almost immediately in front of a beautiful Japanese styled building; its sweeping roofs seemed to invite him in as angel flew up and sat on the roof. 

“Do not be alarmed.” The angel smiled, and took off into the skies. 

Victor took in a deep breath, sliding the paper doors to one side and stepping through the threshold. He ran a hand through his dark hair and looked around. It was a quaint reception room, the building was a lot bigger on the inside than it looked, it was either that theory or the beautiful golden paper that lined the walls seemed to refrain any thought of fear. An older man walked in through the sliding doors by the reception, he glided to Victor and swept down low into a bow. 

“My name is Crowley, how may I help you, Royal Sorcerer?” Victor seemed shocked that the man knew who he was, but his resolve wavered when he thought of whom he had gone to. He peered into the tomb held in his arms and pointed to one of the words, hoping he could pronounce it properly. 

“I require the All Seeing Eye.” 

“If Naomi wants the All Seeing Eye, she will have to go get him herself.” Crowley flicked his fingers in the air, calling upon a scantily clad gypsy woman to appear through the slide doors. With a quick word to her ear, she returned through the doors. Victor looked up when he felt the air around him stir. He paused as his gaze fell to the gypsy woman who entered the room, holding a small beautifully decorated box. 

“I will give you a Rifter, it will lead Naomi to her goal.” Crowley’s twisted lips lifted up into a smirk. He stepped closer to the mage. “Be warned, this is not for the faint heart. Keep my Rifter hidden, locked away, or she will cause havoc."

Victor nodded, reaching out to take the box.

Crowley stopped him, holding the box closer to himself again. "I require something in return.” 

“How much?” 

“For Naomi,” Crowley bowed low once again, “I will charge one hundred thousand coins,” 

“So much…” Victor paid the man. Crowley took the pouch and threw it up into the air, it disappeared into thin air. The gypsy wrapped a material around the box, covering it completely. 

“I wish Naomi well,” Crowley laughed as the sorcerer took the box out from his home. "May she get what's coming for her,"

 

 

Victor knelt in front of his king’s advisor, the one who had led him on this wild goose chase, the decorated box held out in front of him. 

“What is this you bring me?” Naomi asked, holding the blade of her sceptre out to the man. 

“This is a Rifter,” Victor pushed the box up higher. “Crowley states this will show you the Eye’s whereabouts.” 

“Open it.” 

Victor shook his head. “It requires your blood to open it.” 

Naomi stood from her chair, took hold of the intricately decorated box and pressed her thumb against the latch. It flicked open with a rush of wind. But then...nothing happened. Peering inside, she saw a large emerald set in a gold chain. Reaching for it, she held her sceptre to her side, in case of its need, and touched the cool metal. Again nothing happened, so she lifted it up against the willowing sun setting into the horizon. The emerald sparkled like starbursts, it was mesmerising to see.

Urged by a force unknown, she placed the pendant around her neck, clasping it into place. As soon as she did so, Naomi suddenly felt something push against her navel. She clenched her eyes closed at the sudden pain. But when she opened them, she saw she wasn’t in her room any more. 

The place she had landed on was dark, there was wet soil at her feet, staining the bottom of her dress. The once star filled sky overturned with darkness as clouds rolled in. The sound of thunder was almost deafening as lightening crackled to the ground a few feet away from her. The simple lights around her flickered off one by one, engulfing the place in darkness.

Then, suddenly, the air was frozen still. Naomi’s breath came out in puffs of moist steam that permeated into the air. She suddenly felt the emerald hidden under her shirt heat up. A blinding light grew out from under it. She peered at the emerald, entranced by the green that stared back at her, swirling with such power that it immobilised her. 

Naomi quickly pulled it out and held it in front of her. It fell from her grasp, thumping into her chest as a large white orb ripped itself out of the glowing emerald and zipped out of sight into the night sky. Her deadly gaze roved over the darkened alleyway, smirking widely.

_Let the game begin._

 

The air had felt a lot less crowded here, a lot cleaner too. She had instantly recognised this to be the small nook of atmosphere her stupid stepson had taken hostage of. He always did love living in silly buildings and cottages set far in the distance, far away from his mother. She followed the small ball of light, seeing it zip and zag along the air. She understood the allure of this place, it was a lot nicer than the cityscape of the kingdom, and a lot more serene than the dark confines she called her home.

The clouds were coming together and overtaking the beautiful starry night sky. This would do well for her escapade. She had a plan, she had a mission. She needed to find the All Seeing Eye, take its powers, and then she’d rule the kingdoms. But she had to find it first. And that was proving difficult.

Her king had tasked her with the job of peace with the kingdoms, yet she despised the thought. Who wanted peace when they could have everything. People feared her, they saw her and trembled at her gaze. She adored her place as the advisor to the king, it allowed her so much, and yet she was always hungry for more. Absorbing the Eye's powers, she would be able to usurp her stupid stepson, and finally take her rightful place as next in line to the throne.

She breezed past trees and bushes that were all lined in a haphazard row on either side of her. Such disarray, such forestry. Her son was a stupid one. Though, the area was completely still, not an echo of a person or animal in sight. The moon was slowly rising, climbing to its highest point in the sky, and yet she trudged on, getting closer and closer to her destination.

She skimmed the air just above the homes, resting against the point of a large Edwardian style cottage-like building, the only man made looking monstrosity home within the urban forest like vastness that surrounded both sides of the road.  _I've found you!_

Her gaze dropped to the little ball of light making a circle around the house, and she heard a thick sound of footsteps. The Rifter shuddered, as if the sound was pulling it, nagging at it to find out who it was. Naomi felt it before she saw it, the incessant thumping sqealch of footsteps on the thick with mud ground, each timed thud pulling her closer, luring her to its siren song. She stood a few feet in front of the building and saw a young blonde mage she despised walking through the street. 

Dean Winchester...with her stepson... _again!_

She watched as he turned back to the house, and she saw her stepson, her little High Sorcerer Castiel, standing on the door step, his fingers clenched in fists to his sides, anger evident in his features. “…please, don’t leave because of that!” Castiel cried, holding onto the door frame, leaning out of the door, hand reaching out to the blonde mage.

“I…I shouldn’t be here,” The blonde one stopped, turning, and crossed his arms over his chest. “ _How could you not tell me you’re a Novak?”_

The two sickening lovers had a fight?

The Rifter rocketed in through from its stupor in the skies and settled onto the forest floor where the two men were was talking, unbeknownst to the world around them. The blonde mage could not see the small ball of light, too enthralled in his discussion with Castiel, either that or he didn’t notice. The Rifter stood still, excitement bubbling up inside it. The blonde mage's pretty face, gorgeous green eyes, long dark eyelashes that fanned over her high cheek bones, the panting of her breath from his parted lips as he spoke heatedly to the man standing at the doorway, running thick fingers through his spiky hair. 

Naomi watched as the small ball of light zipped this way and that, as if she was watching, listening to their conversation.

_What is happening?_ Naomi thought harshly, her deep dark eyes glowing in intensity against the darkness that permeated the forest. Have I killed my own stepson? So easily?

The Rifter shivered again, but paid no heed to the forest or its surroundings. It knew its job, and it wanted this man. It knew the potential within this man. And it knew that he would be happier for its interference. His heart was screaming. The young man was coming closer to it, stepping away from where his heart beat the hardest; The Rifter peered at every part of him. It shivered at the thumping of his heartbeat, wanting him to go closer to the Sorcerer, nor further away. _‘Oh…my, my…lovers always tasted the best!’_

The Rifter stood still above the man. Naomi could almost feel the anticipation in the air. Did this mean that that dumb, lowly mage was the ‘All Seeing Eye’?

_Him?_

It couldn’t be possible.

“Have you found what I am looking for?” She asked the Rifter, though she knew it couldn't hear her. Her nose was filled with the scent of pine and forest, and something else. It smelled…powerful. Like an electrical current pulsing through the air. She watched, in awe, as the small ball of light shuddered almost coquettishly, and disappeared into the blonde mage's body.

The blonde mage, _The Eye_ she desired, collapsed into the forest floor, grasping at his head in pain. Naomi watched as the Rifter sunk into the man’s heart, making him stumble into the street. She also noticed that, without hesitation, Castiel leaped into his way, wrapping his arms around the Eye and holding his other hand to Dean's heart, stopping the Rifter in itspath. It shot out of The Eye and up into the air, most likely off to find its next victim.

But the damage had been done.

After hiding her eyes from the bright burst of light and stars, Naomi’s gaze returned to the two on the forest floor, she saw Castiel was on his back, eyes closed, unconscious to what was happening. Her gaze rushed over to The Eye, seeing him also on the ground, unconscious.

…but wait…there were two of them?

She watched as the ‘other’ blonde mage shook himself up, his eyes as black as night. He looked across to his twin and to Castiel, holding a hand to his heart, and smirked. Kneeling down to Castiel, Naomi saw him whisper something to him, but didn’t hear what it was. The black eyed blonde mage snapped his fingers, and vanished into thin air.

The blonde mage had split like she had expected him to, her intent had been to keep him when it happened, and to kill him off when he was the most vulnerable. His soul split it two, easy to kill. Yet she hadn't expected this. She hadn't expected the Rifter to separate him from himself, she hadn't expected  _two_ blonde mage's. And she definitely hadn't expected her own stepson, the High Sorcerer to the House of Novak, to have fallen at its power.

She wanted to find out more, but the Rifter had disappeared into the skies, ready to split again. And Naomi was left here, with an unconscious High Sorcerer and half of his lover. All she wanted was the Eye's power. And now, she had probably caused hell to unleash on the earth.

_Oh no…what had she done?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all~!  
> Sorry its taken so long to update, been having a...well lets call it hectic, past few months. But I'm slowly recovering, and honestly, this story is going to take some time to get going, but it will definitely go into my good graces and be up more frequently.  
> I hope.

Castiel didn’t know what was happening.

His head felt fuzzy, and his mind was a mix of white noise and a blaring siren. The cacophony of sounds pounding and aching behind his eyes.

He hadn’t understood just how he had gone from looking at Dean’s beautiful green eyes filled with anger and hurt, filled with _tears_ , as he yelled at him, accusing him of hiding his hierarchy to the kingdom – Cas _couldn’t,_ after all, he _loved_ Dean, and he knew Dean _loved_ him, and not because he was the son of a king.

He loved Dean’s eyes, the way they flashed when he was angry, the way the corners crinkled when he laughed, and how they turned to liquid when he gave Cas _that_ look. The one that made Cas sure that Dean loved him, they just…they just hadn’t gotten there yet.

Cas had hoped they would have spoken about it last night. But he hadn’t expected his last name to rear its ugly head.

So he hadn’t known just how he had gone from an angry Dean, to being knocked out unconscious, waking up on the soft dewy ground, looking up at the climbing sun rise across the skies, the birds and other forest animals singing sweetly, while his head pounded, his chest aching and his body feeling like a dragon had slammed straight into him.

Blinking, he grimaced at the bright sun and tried to find his bearings. He knew he was outside his home, the barriers were strong – stronger than ever in fact – and that they were pulsing, as if there was something wrong. _Had_ something god wrong?

He tried to move, but found he was more sluggish than he had initially thought. He tried wiggling his fingers and his toes, then his arms and legs, until he had full control of his body again. He got up slowly, feeling like he was moving through syrupy sludge, and looked around.

The place _looked_ okay.

Maybe he had been hit with a wayward spell?

It couldn’t have been Dean, he hadn’t had his arms out, and neither had Castiel felt his powers merge to create anything that could cause him to be completely knocked out. And anyway, Castiel had an internal protection spell that alerted him to any outward and wayward attacks.

That meant there was something that he was getting sloppy – not wanting to sound pompous, but that was so not likely – or the attack hadn’t been for him.

What…where was Dean?

He saw his lovely Dean on the ground before him, he looked completely unconscious. His heart almost stopped, his face drained of all colour. Castiel was quick to his side, muttering a spell and holding his hand over Dean’s prone body.

Dean could not be dead. No way.

Leaning his head onto Dean’s chest, his heart plummeted when he couldn’t hear a heart beating, or feel his chest rise and fall in his breath. _No, no, no, no!_

Castiel growled out his spell, moving his fingers in an intricate dance in the air, forcing everything he had into his words and his fingers. Bluish white light emanated from the tips of his fingers and he pressed his hand down onto Dean’s chest. He could feel Dean’s body shudder as he violently arched up, back curving into an arch. He dropped just as harshly back onto the ground, his body recognising Cas’s magic, wrapping his own around it. The small greenish gold tendrils urging up from his heart was always an amazing sight for Castiel to see, it was like his soul wanted Cas, was eager to taste his magic, needing him, feeding off him. Castiel smiled, that meant Dean was still here, he wasn’t completely dead.

He forced his hand down more on Dean’s chest, and almost cried with joy when he felt Dean’s heart beating, sensed his magic growing, eating away at Cas’s eagerly. Castiel was happy to let him. He desperately needed Dean with him, needed Dean by his side.

God, he loved Dean so, it was difficult to think of his life without Dean.

His magic faltered, however. Their beautiful spiralling melding of magic was siphoning away, separating as if the light was dimming, as if a fire was slowly turning to embers. It was very odd, and completely frightening. His magic had never done that with Dean before. They had unconsciously been sharing their magic, their souls, with one another whenever Dean was over – and he was over a lot – so Castiel knew the way he felt, the way his magic tasted. They were always so close, though in any way buy physically, so whatever had hit Dean, whatever had come through his magical barriers and rendered them both unconscious, it was frightening, it was strong.

And it needed to be put down.

Castiel tried again, pressing his other hand to Dean’s cheek trying to push more of his magic into his…Dean. His chanting continuing until it was like white wash humming in the background, like a mantra as he repeated it again and again. The words came easy to him, the intonation and the pitch like breathing. Dean’s skin was cool to the touch, sallow and weirdly shining with sweat.

Please God. Please don’t do anything to his Dean. “Please come back to me.” He leaned in closer, pressing their foreheads together, forcing his magic through their bond, knowing more touch would only help Dean gain consciousness quicker. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you I’m a Novak, but _please,_ don’t leave me. I haven’t even…”

Dean’s magic pulsed a little, like a car revving up and making his way back to consciousness, back to Cas. Castiel’s heart beat madly in his chest, jack rabbiting, threatening to burst.

Wait…

But this…this was…not it. It wasn’t the immediately intoxicating lightning storm Cas was used to, it was like…a small monsoon, like there _should_ be more. It fell short, and that made Cas worry. As soon as he was able to, having fed Dean as much of his magic as he could, he reached down and scooped Dean right up in his arms. Cradling Dean close to him, he made his way into his home.

Something wasn’t right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Cas...and poor Dean.
> 
> P.s. Cas has this almost unlimited source of power, and since he constantly shares it with Dean, the fact that he is giving Dean his magic will not hinder him so much.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there my lovelies~!
> 
> It's been a long time coming, and I'm sorry for the delay. I've been having many a medical problem, and had been cooped up in hospital for the majority of it. But I am thankfully recuperating and recovering.  
> It's going to be slow going, not gonna lie, but I hope you stick with me~!

_What happened?_

Dean couldn’t open his eyes all the way; they felt heavy and laden with something that made his insides turn. The thrumming ache in his chest felt like he had been hit by a truck. And there was a thick sand-like taste on his tongue. It almost made him want to throw up, or dash for a pitcher of water and drink it until the taste disappeared.

His heart ached too, as if there was a large part of him that wasn’t _there_ anymore. Like a good chunk of what made him _him_ had been forced out of him. Yanked from his very existence, leaving a wide, gaping hole, needing to be filled. It made him gasp for breath, but that only made the sandy taste sink into his skin.

He found he couldn’t move very well. It felt like he was stuck in molasses, everything around him was heavy, and hot, and all sorts of awful. However, though it felt like there was a large weight on his entire body, he felt _light._ It was such an odd sensation. But he felt…worry free. Like everything that had caused him to pause, to stop and think before he did anything rash…

He could _feel it,_ yet…it was strange. It was like he was thinking this, and knowing it, but at the same time, it didn’t matter that he didn’t have any reflexive thoughts. Like he was free to do as he pleased without the repercussions.

It…it stemmed to goodness, to heaven, to what made life amazing. He had no thoughts of doing anything bad. Or evil. He felt almost like he was a _good_ person. Not saying that he wasn’t, but he had been having wicked, wicked thoughts about the sorcerer he called his best friend. But now, all those thoughts didn’t seem like a burden.

Was this how it felt to be a saint?

Cas.

Memories infiltrated his mind, of standing with Castiel, smiling and laughing with him as they worked together to make a potion or cook up a spell for something…or someone. His mind was still a little fuzzy about his thoughts and his past. But he remembered the feelings, the emotions he felt. The way Castiel’s mouth tilted to one side as he spoke, the way his gorgeous blue eyes brightened as he stirred the pots and cauldrons, the way his laugh sounded like lilting bells. The way his eyes had darkened when he got the package signed for ‘Novak’, the way he had signed it with a sigh, the way his body curled in on itself as he turned to look at Dean. The way he had…given up.

_Novak._

Dean remembered. They had been fighting about his heritage, about his last name, about his family. What an idiotic thing to be fighting about? Castiel was his friend, his confidante, his…Castiel was his…he was…he…he was Castiel.

He remembered the look on Castiel’s face, at the way he had yelled at Castiel and how that gorgeous face had fallen. He spotted the tears in the corner of Castiel’s eyes, and his heart had desperately wanted to reach out for his Cas, to hold him close and tell him that he didn’t care just what his last name was. That Cas was his Cas that he was the best sorcerer, the best friend Dean could ever have. And that was because he was _Cas_ , not Castiel _Novak_.

But no, he had yelled instead. He had let his emotions get the better of him and he had yelled at his best friend. At his…at…at the man he loved.

And now he was stuck here – _wherever here was –_ heavy with the thought that the last thing he had said to Castiel was a lie.

Dean sucked in a breath. He felt his fingers twitch and he knew he had to get up from here. Thankfully, it felt like his entire body was slowly getting lighter and lighter as the time passed. Though his reflexes were still so slow.

He didn’t even care to think about just _how_ he had gotten from yelling at Cas, to… _here._ It was like it didn’t matter!

He felt something wet and cool on his forehead first, drops of liquid dripping down his skin to the side of his face, pooling behind his ears. There was someone above him, someone who was moving around. He felt the touch next, hands pressed against his own, holding them close to a warm chest, so close he could feel the quick thudding heart beating.

He heard the voice next, a voice so sweet and solid, one so perfectly amazing, that it made him want to sigh with relief.

Cas.

_Cas_ was caring for him.

His heart grew a few sized bigger at the idea that his Cas was looking after him after he had fallen. _How_ had he fallen? He didn’t care, because this was Cas with him. He forced his eyes open, if only to see Cas. Though it was slow going – very slow going – his eyes opened and he forced them closed at the sudden onslaught of brightness. Moments later the light dimmed enough for him to open his eyes once again.

“Dean?”

Dean glanced up into those lovely blue eyes and smiled brightly. Everything felt so _good_ right now, like a giant weight had been lifted off his chest and he was flying free. Oh Cas. Beautiful, wonderful, _perfect,_ Cas.

Castiel’s cheeks tinged a beautiful pink as he leaned back a little. “P-perfect? Wha—did you hit your head?”

No…come closer. Dean forced his body to move and reached out to Cas, wanting him closer. He pressed a hand to Cas’s cheek, leaning up with him.

“Beautiful Cas,” he murmured, pressing a scant kiss to the corner of Cas’s lips. He felt Cas stiffen underneath him, but he pressed on, leaning back and smiling. “Such perfection,”

“Okay, you’ve gone crazy,” Cas said, suddenly getting up. He quickly darted to his table, circling around it and reaching for his thick spell book on the pedestal. He flipped through the pages and tried to find a way to figure out just what had happened to his…to Dean. He wasn’t like this. Dean didn’t call him _beautiful_ or _perfect._

“Some spell hit you,” Castiel stated, though he knew he was sounding more and more like a robot. But Dean had slowly gotten up and was making his way over to him. Though his footsteps were hesitant, and his head was probably all kinds of fuzzy and probably concussed, he had a look of dazed determination in his eyes.

It made Cas shudder and shiver in their intensity, but he forced that thought right to the back of his head.

Dean kissed me.

_Back of his head._ He had to figure out what was happening to Dean first.

But Dean kissed me…

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was all sorts of lilting and deep, and Cas suddenly had the image of them wrapped in a loving embrace, whispering words of love and hope for their future together. All because Dean had said his name like _that!_

_Oh god._ Cas slammed his hands down on the pedestal and turned to Dean. He gasped when he noticed just how far Dean had gotten. The man was like a panther, a ninja! Moment before he had been unable to move, and in a flash Dean had turned the large table and was standing right next to him, they were almost face to face.

“Dean, how are you feeling?” Castiel asked, leaning back against the pedestal. This was so unlike Dean, he was usually so subdued and calm, he never got so close to him – not that Cas didn’t _wish_ for this all the time. Maybe Dean was just concussed or something. Maybe the whiplash was what was causing him to behave this way. After all, Dean didn’t want to kiss him, did he?

“Great,” Dean said, with that gorgeous, knee weakening smile. He leaned in close, until Cas was almost bent right over the pedestal. “Now that I’m with you,”

Cas’s cheeks burst a bright red and his spell book fell to the ground with a loud thud, making him jump. This was so…wrong! What kind of spell made him act so…so emotionally? It had to be that blast that had knocked them both back. He was sure the spell attack had been for Dean and Dean alone, because Cas didn’t feel any different at all. But Dean…Dean was acting so gung ho and sure, more so than usual. It was like he was letting whatever was usually crossing his mind happen!

Or at least, that was what Cas thought was happening. Dean leaned in closer, placing both hands on the pedestal, on either side of Cas, caging the sorcerer in. He smirked; pressing his lips to Castiel’s once again, this time with more purpose and assurance. It was heavenly, chaste and sweet, but it made Cas burn.

Oh god, he needed to get to the bottom of this, for both of their sake.

But...well...Dean was kissing him...he'd focus on the spell in a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I wonder what's happened to Dean~!


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel didn’t know how they ended up wrapped up in one another on the floor under his spell book pedestal table.

Well, okay he definitely knew how, he remembered each and every moment  _vividly._  The quick chaste kisses he and Dean had been sharing had turned a little hotter than he had ever thought possible. Nails dug into skin, gasps and groans escaped lips. Castiel had lost all comprehensive thought when those lips touched his, so sweet and soft, so deliciously plump. He had lost his balance when he felt Dean’s tongue thrust down his throat, and they had both fallen onto the plush carpet, barely missing the sharp edge wooden base of the table.

He looked up at the swirling pattern on his ceiling and let out a deep breath, he waited a few seconds before he drew a breath in and then released it moments later. He had been doing these deep breathing exercises for a while now. It was his attempt to try and focus on what was going to happen, and what he had to do to figure out what was wrong with Dean. And _not_ on the way Dean was curled into his right side, warm and sweet, smelling like a forest and metal, those thick muscular arms wrapped possessively around his middle. _Oh god._

Dean just lay there with his eyes closed, just letting the day waste away. He looked so calm and so serene. As if he hadn’t just confused Cas’s world six ways to Sunday.

Castiel had to focus. What had he seen, what had he sensed before the magic spell had hit Dean. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus. They had been outside. Castiel’s barriers had been up and they had both been inside the parameters. He was damn sure of that. He could still sense the little strain he felt whenever he had them up, like a little tickle at the back of his head. A presence that made itself known only when he focused on it. Like breathing, his magic was to him.

He would have sensed if some otherworldly magic spell had tried to come in through his barriers. It would have been a definite red flag, and if the spell was low in strength enough, then it would have been dismissed there and then as they hit the wall. He would have made sure nothing happened to Dean. So whatever had happened hadn’t been a spell.

Castiel had allowed animals and insects and forest creatures to come in and out of his barriers whenever they wanted to. But only those with pure hearts and good intentions were allowed entry. Nothing evil ever entered his premises without him knowing about it and allowing them. If it hadn’t been a spell, and it certainly didn’t look like an animal, not that Castiel could be sure of that, he hadn’t really taken the chance to see…

Wait.

He suddenly got up, bumping his head hard against the lower shelf on his spell book podium. Ruing the day Gabriel told him it would be cool to have him make such an elaborate piece of furniture all for his spell book. He looked back to where the book had fallen.

"Stop moving around!” Dean whined, grabbing onto Castiel’s middle and forcing him back down onto the ground.

Castiel let out a gasp,  _oh, Dean felt so good_  and reached for Dean’s arms, trying to reason with the man, though he felt this was all just way too out of character for Dean. He didn't want to anger the clearly enchanted man. “I just need my book, and then we can cuddle,”

Dean seemed to think about this for a moment, and then nodded, loosening his arms enough for Castiel to move a little to the place where his book had fallen. Dean’s arms were still looped around him however. When Castiel reached for the book, he was forced back into Dean’s embrace. The man in question curled back around Castiel’s right side, tightening his grip around the sorcerer and buried his head back onto Castiel’s chest, murmuring nonchalant words.

His cheeks burst a bright pink, and sat up a little. Oh dear. He shouldn’t get used to this. _This is so…not good._ Dean grumbled again, but when he found out Castiel wasn’t moving all that much, he continued his content cuddling. In any other world, in any other time, Castiel would have jumped at the chance to be with Dean, to cuddle him, to kiss him, to do everything that they were currently doing. But this, this was… _they had missed so many steps in their relationship!_

Dean had been hit by something that made him act differently. Maybe it was a love potion – not that that was possible to create, no one could create love where there wasn’t any – or an infatuation potion seemed more like it. He wouldn’t rule out the baby duck spells either, imprinting on the first person you see. But he had to find out just _what_ had happened first of all. And he had a spell for that.

Flipping through the slightly yellowing pages of his spell book, he stopped at a hand written spell written in his own missive. A spell to see snippets of the past. It was crude and had the chance of not working to its full effect, but it should work well for what he wanted. He chanted the spell like it was second nature to him, like it was as easy as breathing to channel his essence, his power, and bring it out with his lilting words.

He could almost see the words escape his lips, Latin and Enochian mixed together to make something archaic and powerful, something only he was able to conjure and perfect. He closed his eyes, letting the spell get to work. His eyes shone white, he knew this because Dean always told him he looked eerie yet awesome whenever he chanted a spell that involved his eyesight. He smiled at the memory, but focused instead on what he had to do. Almost like a weaving of an image, he suddenly found himself drawn back to a memory of the front of his home. Of him reaching out to Dean, tears escaping the corners of his eyes, stinging and hot as he listened to Dean yell at him, saying the same thing over and over again.

“You’re a Novak?”

Castiel reached out to him, the cool sensation of him projecting out of his memories body and stepping forward towards Dean. He stood directly in front of Dean, desperate to reach out and touch, to hold onto him and tell him how sorry he was, how he had never wanted Dean to find out like this. That being a Novak didn’t make him different to the Cas Dean knew him to be.

He reached for Dean, seeing him mumbling something to himself. He had wanted to know just what Dean had said, and now he had the chance. 

“What would a Novak want with me?” He heard Dean say to himself, and his eyes widened.  _Oh...oh god._ Dean thought he wasn't good enough?

But that was when he saw the spell coming from the corner of his eyes, a big bright blur that moved with such speed, it had big round, pupil-less eyes, and a wide mouth with what looked like fangs at the corner of it. It zipped through the air and through Castiel’s astral projected body and straight into Dean. Castiel witnessed Dean’s eyes widening as the thing spilled into his chest, he curled over in on himself and gasped out loud. The thing moved straight through him, phasing through him and throwing him back with the force of it.

There was a deep black smoke that enveloped around Dean, and then he was forced to the ground, body unmoving. Castiel watched, unable to get out of this hell he had created for himself. Though he knew Dean was fine, he was okay, they were currently on his floor, cuddling together on the plush carpet. But looking at him now, seeing him like this, it broke his heart.

The bright thing zipped around Dean, circling his head, and then ricocheted out into the skies, disappearing to wherever it was he had gone. And then Dean’s body arched up from the grass, skin taut and a gasp escaping his lips. And then something happened that even Castiel couldn’t understand.

_Another Dean came out of him._

The _other_ Dean sat up, shaking himself from his fallen twin. This Dean _felt_ different, yet similar to the Dean he knew. He got up from …well, from himself, and shook his body. He looked down to himself and smiled. Castiel saw his eyes turn a pitch black as he smirked, looking _directly at him_ and then walked away as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Castiel was suddenly brought back to the present. He let out a breath as his magic receded back to its natural resting place, and he shuddered. Looking down, he saw Dean gazing up at him with worry and wonder in his eyes.

_What the hell had he just seen?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sporadic updates.  
> I should be able to update more regularly soon.

Castiel’s astral projection returned quickly back into his body. He shot up, sucking in a deep breath as if he had just come out of water and was trying to catch his breath. Dean got up next to him, looking at him with such alluring bright eyes. Brighter than usual, Cas noted. They were usually so lovely and beautiful to look at, but there was something different about them right now, something almost hazy.

Whatever that thing was that had gone straight through Dean, it was doing something to the man. It had made _another Dean_ come out of him. One who had black eyes, and looked thrilling, and knew Cas was there. Watching him.

Just what was happening?

He had to get to the bottom of this. And he knew just who to go to next.

 

~~

 

Gabriel Novak prided in himself – not so much his surname, because being a Novak always felt heavy on his head – but in himself as a sorcerer. He was nowhere near as good as his fellow brothers as a wizard and sorcerer, but he was able to hold his own in so many ways they were unable to.

His strength came from the things he created. Though he owned and worked in a bakery store that sold all sorts of sweet and savoury treats to help people, all the way from those who were exhausted and needed a pick me up to those who were dealing with actual life altering problems, like depression and other evil ailments.

He was able to weave his magic directly into his creations that would actually help and benefit the people who ate his treats or used his things. He was still trying to work on that nasty cancer. But he was sure he was going to get a break through some day. He was damn sure of it.

When he wasn’t baking, he was creating all sorts of things, such as furniture and assorted items. He loved working with his hands, adored the things that came out of his fingers. He had a piece of himself in everything he sold, and he sold them well. Many people, sorcerers, familiars and humans alike, had come to his side, asking for more of his treats, for more of his furniture, saying how he had helped them immensely.

He didn’t want to brag, but he did think himself a connoisseur of the mystical arts of creation magic. He was strong, stronger than most out there, and he was all by himself, no familiar to help siphon his magic, or keep him sane whenever he tried a new spell or something much more powerful than he allowed himself to do.

However, he was in need of a familiar, much like his brothers had. He had been studying his art so much so that his strengths and sorcery were slowly growing to go haywire. His little brother Castiel had already mastered his art, and was working with his familiar Dean – not that Dean _knew_ he was a familiar to Cas, because hell, they’d be a lot more powerful than they were right now if he even knew how important he was to the timid lummox Gabriel called his baby brother – and in doing so, he was able to control his strong bursts of magic.

And Gabriel…

His solid gold gaze fell to the giant hottie sitting in one of the booths in the back of his bakery, his long hair falling to frame his gorgeous face, a hand coming to push his hair back so Gabriel could look at that face a little better. Those long, dexterous fingers returning to the laptop sitting on the table in front of him as he typed away at something or another. A cup of coffee next to him, and _oh god,_ there was a little piece of baked ‘pick me up puffs’ Gabriel had given to him – on the house, because _damn –_ as he worked hard.

Well, Gabriel was still working on that.

Gabriel was so damn sure that hottie in the corner was the familiar for him. He could feel it deep in his bones, right down in his soul. It was like the hottie was screaming at him, telling him to come and bond with him, to take him as his own familiar. They could share their strengths, their magic, their powers – and if Gabriel played his cards right, he’d want to share _a lot more_. – but Sam Winchester was first and foremost a law student. And he had told that brunette who came with him every once in a while that he wasn’t interested in being a familiar.

And wasn’t that a kick right in the crotch.

But it didn’t stop Gabriel from staring. But, he wasn’t one to just stare at something gorgeous and not try to go for him. And though he had spoken to Sam once or twice ever since the man had come to his shop every day in an intent to stuff his face with ‘Pick Me Up Puff’s and drink gallons of ‘Perk Up Coffee’, Gabriel really didn’t know as much as he wanted to about the man.

Like…was Sam even interested in men?

He was always around pretty girls and hell, Gabriel was the same, he was pansexual. But there was just something about Sam that made him zone everything and everyone else out and just _focus_ on him.

Sam was his familiar. He had to be. Gabriel could feel it, like a calling. Sam was definitely his familiar. He _had_ to be. He just had to get the giant moose of a man to understand that.

Gabriel placed the piece he was working on down on the table, throwing a rag over it as the last sparks of his magic laced themselves to the barely finished whittling. He turned around the bar and made his way over to Sam. He was thankful that it was late, passed closing time – he always let Sam stay late, the boy was always so engrossed in his work that he never noticed the hours waning, but Gabriel always made sure to have him fed with ample amounts of food and drink. – there was no one else in the store other than them.

Gabriel had swapped the open sign for closed about an hour ago while he worked on his latest creation – though majority of that time was him staring at Sam, but that was neither here nor there. Sam hadn’t even noticed the time. He gazed up when Gabriel approached him however, his hazel green eyes wide as he looked around and noticed the rest of the shop was completely empty.

“You let me stay passed closing time again, huh?” he asked sheepishly, running a hand through his hair, wrinkling his nose when it just returned back to his face again.

“You seemed so in the zone, Samalam,” Gabriel mused, “Didn’t want to break you out of it. Is that another assignment?”

“Yeah, I’m almost done,” Sam replied, not saying anything about the nickname. Gabriel always used a new nickname for him every day, he had just gotten used to it. He had that puppy dog look on his face, silently asking if it was okay for him to stay just a little bit longer. Gabriel let out a breath; Sam really was working himself to death nowadays.

“I ain’t giving you another Perk Up Coffee,” Gabriel rolled his eyes and conjured a sweetened tea for the giant moose. “Try this instead,”

“What is it?” Sam asked, taking the drink from Gabriel’s hands – Gabriel was always so stunned at just how trusting Sam was of him, after all he _was_ known as a trickster – he looked down at the rich golden colour of the tea and took in the sweet peach like scent.

“Just a new blend, doesn’t have a name yet,” Gabriel shrugged his shoulders, “But it should help you sleep at night,”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Sam said, taking a sip of the heated tea. He let out a sigh, his cheeks turning a warm pink. He placed the tea down next to his coffee cup and got back to work.

Gabriel rolled his eyes again, taking the finished coffee cup and making his way back to the counter. He needed to get his whittling finished for today, Jody was expecting it for tomorrow and he had to make sure it was done for her early morning cup of coffee.

He didn’t know how long had passed, but there were no cars on the streets and more, and he could no longer see anything outside with the bright lights of the store. This was nice, just a calm, serene moment of him working on something, Sam sitting in his usual booth doing the same. Would this be what it was like if he ever finally asked Sam to become his familiar?

“Done!” Sam exclaimed, breaking Gabriel out of his thoughts.

He smiled, clapping his hands as he made his way over to Sam. He conjured a large lollipop and held it out to the man. Sam took it, used to Gabriel giving him sweets and things whenever he had finished something big.

“Thanks for letting me stay late,” Sam said, getting up from his seat. He placed his laptop and books in his bag and slung his bag over his shoulders. “You know you could just kick me out when you’re closing,”

“And miss out on you becoming a fancy lawyer? Not on your life,” Gabriel replied, smirking, “It’s not like it’s a hardship watching you work,”

Sam’s cheeks burst a bright red, and he looked away. “Th-thanks anyway,” He slid out of the booth and stood in front of Gabriel, noticing once again just how shorter the older man was. Though that wasn’t much of a feat, Sam was a giant.

“Get some rest, Sammy,” Gabriel said, letting himself reach out and touch Sam. Sure they had fleeting touches here and there. He knew Sam probably only saw him as a barkeep, or someone who just let him stay late. He probably didn’t know just how Gabriel lusted for him, just how much Gabriel wanted him. As more than just a familiar.

Ah, and he would never know. Nah, Sam was going to be a lawyer; he was going to go out there and save the world. He was going to find some gorgeous girl, get married and crank out beautiful babies.

Yeah. Gabriel would still be here. His store would always be open for Sam.

“Night Gabe,” Sam murmured, taking a look at him and then turning to the door.

Gabriel sighed, seeing that huge back walk away from him once again. What he didn’t notice was the big black ball of light zip through Sam, straight through his body and stop right in front of Gabriel. The little ball looked up at him with those beady pupil less eyes before zipping off through the window and out again,

What the fu—“Oh god, _Sam!_ ”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between...  
> ...she's back!
> 
> Ish.

Sam felt like he was falling.

It was so easy to get lost in those gorgeous golden honey eyes. Oh god, if only Gabriel knew just how much Sam adored him. But someone as powerful and as wonderful as Gabriel probably wanted nothing to do with him.

Sam had been watching, and he had seen Gabriel looking at him, oddly, admiringly. But he had also seen the beautiful and wonderful creations that mage made, each and every one of his pastries, sweets, baked goods, hot drinks, cold drinks, all the way down to the wooden table Sam sat on…they were all so powerful, so wonderful.

He always sat at the corner booth, because this was the booth that was the most comfy, the cushions looked so flat and lacklustre in their plush, but whenever Sam sat on them, he felt like he was sitting on a cloud. The table was always smooth, and every time he placed his laptop onto it, it rejuvenated itself, never lost power.

Hell, _Sam_ felt rejuvenated every time he stepped foot into the building. Seeing that smiling face charged his own batteries up. And then there were those drinks, made with such care, such love. Sam felt his heart ache every time he tasted a new confectionary, a new treat.

Sitting there, he forced himself to focus on his work. This was why he was here, sitting late into the night, working, working, working. He was going to be a lawyer; he was going to do his best. He was going to make his brother proud. He was going to make his _family_ proud.

And just like the first time he had told Gabriel that he wanted to be a lawyer, and he saw that smile, the one that made his insides flutter and tumble, made him fall madly in love with the shorter man.

He wanted to see that smile again, and he did so whenever he finished his assignments. Just like he was about…to…do….now.

“Done!” He cried, his gaze turning to Gabriel as soon as he said it. He _lived_ for those smiles, and he wasn’t disappointed.

Sam swore there was some sorcery there, because he could see sparks flying out of those honey whisky eyes. Then he moved his hands in a quick motion and – just like usual – a lollipop appeared in his hands. Sam took it, slightly hesitant in doing so, not because he didn’t trust the mage, but because he didn’t want to look like this was what he had wanted from the beginning.

Gabriel had already showered him with all sorts of sweet treats, ‘on the house’ he had said, ‘try these so I can see if they are good enough to sell’, and each and everything he had put on a plate was absolutely divine.

It was no shock that this small bakery was booming. It was all because of the gorgeous golden man behind the counter. The Willy Wonka of confectionaries.

And Sam was, once again, getting lost in him.

Such a powerful mage, he probably had a familiar…somewhere. Someone who was beautiful, lovely, and sweet, just like he was. Not someone like Sam, who was bulbous, bumbling and such an idiot whenever he was around Gabriel.

He was losing his nerves.

“Thanks for letting me stay late, you know you can just kick me out when you’re closing,” he mumbled, stumbling as he got up from his seat, almost slinging his bag on his back and holding his laptop in his arms. Shit, he should put that _in_ his bag, but he’s going to look like a fool if he just took his bag off and put his laptop inside. Oh god. Already messing it up!

No, breathe Sam. He put his bag and books into his bag and slung them over his shoulder.

“And miss out on you becoming a fancy lawyer?” Gabriel replied, and Sam felt his heart speed up madly in his chest. Oh dear lord, what that smile did to him! “It’s not like it’s a hardship watching you work.”

Holy…crap.

Holy crap.

_Holy crap!_

Sam forgot how to breathe! He was used to Gabriel being sweet and flirting with him, the shorter man did it all the time after all. But it always sucked him in, every single time, he felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, looking up into Gabriel’s waiting hands. He could either lift a hand up to him and take it, or he could plummet to his death.

“Th-thanks anyway,” Why was he such a fool!

If only he could just…be a bit more braver. In his fantasy, he’d have already taken Gabriel, pushed him up against the table and kissed him until they were so exhausted from it that they would be whisked away into the beautiful aftermath of an earth shattering kiss.

What the _hell_ was he talking about? Who was he kidding; he was so flustered around the mage. He was just a stupid little magician; he didn’t belong in the shadows of such a great man.

“Get some rest, Sammy,”

Oh and there were those nicknames, they always gave him hope, like starlight in the darkness. Sam would never be able to have something like that, he was not there yet.

Maybe when he became a lawyer, and used his words as his magic, and climbed the ladder until he was toe to toe with someone as wonderful and strong as Gabriel, then he would come back here, see Gabriel and ask him if he would like Sam as a familiar – if he didn’t have one already.

“Night Gabe,” he murmured, teasing himself with returning the nickname. Oh, dear lord, that face. It was like the sun rose from its slumber, lighting up the smile of Gabriel’s face.

Sam would have him. Yes, there was no way he was going to let this man go. But for tonight, he was going to wait for his results, and try to pass his class.

He turned, steering away from the temptation of an empty room and a cosy lover, and a few flat surfaces to choose from, and faced the door. He barely noticed the little black ball zip through the air, through the glass of the door. But he felt it slip into him, heating him up from the inside, and take over his mind.

He fell back and his world tilted sideways before it completely darkened.

 

Gabriel reached forward, taking hold of Sam in his arms. He struggled with the larger man, but easily moved him to the booth, laying him down. Sam’s legs bent over the side, his large body fitting in the booth.

Oh god, oh god. What the hell was that?

He reached for the nearest piece of wood, the small plank he had been whittling, and pressed it into Sam’s skin, in his large palms. The magic he had infused into that wood sunk into Sam’s skin, little sparks rising up his wrists, his arm, crossing over his elbow and up into his shirt. Gabriel could see his magic erupt on Sam, growing stronger and more wondrous as it rose up his arm, across his shoulder and settled into his heart.

…well, Gabriel really hadn’t expected _that_ to happen!

Sam’s skin started to glow, and his body started to convulse a little, back bowing with an unseen force that pushed Gabriel back. The mage stumbled back onto the table, and watched with shock as another Sam emerged out from the shine.

He sat up, like some weird kind of astral projection of himself coming to life, getting up like Dracula emerging from his coffin. The _other_ Sam peered up at him, running his hands through his hair, his dark eyes widened and turning to Gabriel, his smile stretching across his lips, looking just so…

…fucking hot. Like what the hell was that?

“Hey baby,” Sam’s voice was low, like a growl, and his eyes flashed a solid glassy hazel. He got up, standing away from the Sam still lying down on the booth cushions.

Gabriel faltered, unsure of what he was seeing, or what he was supposed to _do._ What was this? Was Sam a projection? A ghost? Or was he something else entirely? Gabriel needed to find out, he needed to get to…to… _Sam_ and see if he was o—holy fuck, Sam was straddling him, his large body crawling and towering over Gabriel’s own like a seductively cat…no, panther…fuck.

And then Sam kissed him…

…oh, holy…mother of… _wow…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd apologise, but...ya'll knew this was going to happen.

Gabriel barely heard the sound of his mobile phone ringing in the distance. He was too busy trying to make sense of Sam 2.0 sucking on his neck like his god damn life depended on it.

He couldn’t think. That mouth was sucking on his skin, that tongue licking and slathering along his flesh, and those teeth – good god, those teeth grazed alongside that tongue and it made literal lightning ricochet from his mouth and straight into Gabriel’s muscles. It was such an odd feeling, those sparks, they made him jump in their minuscule jolts, but at the same time, they sunk into his skin, straight to his muscles and calmed him down.

He had seen the way his magic bloomed as it seeped into Sam’s own skin, the way it sped up its incursions, the way the very vine like ministrations he had expected to surround Sam in his protection, and the way they literally grew, wrapping and trapping and soothing before sinking into Sam, intent to stay there.

If it weren’t for the whole _other Sam_ coming out of his Sam, and the way said other Sam was straddling over him and giving him the deepest hickey – one that could rival Dracula – and made Gabriel’s already love stricken mind fly in all sorts of directions. Then Gabriel would have noticed his own magic flare up at the melding of their two magiks, the way it actually pulsed and grew as if it in itself had limitless potential. As if, in those few moments they shared their strengths, they could have taken over the entire universe if they had wanted to.

Not that Gabriel had anything like that in his mind right now. After all, he had priorities – and no, at this moment in time he was not thinking with his dick when it came to Sam Winchester. In fact, though everything happening right now pointed to a night where they were both sweaty and spent and gasping each other’s names, the original Sam – Sammy OG, let’s call him, because calling him ‘not as hot as the one currently necking him, but still just as hot in that cute puppy dog kind of, I want to take you home and feed you and spend the rest of my life with you kind of way’ was a bit too many words for Gabriel to _think_ right now – Sammy OG was still laying there in the booth, looking like he was in a deep sleep.  

And his phone was still ringing.

Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

He sucked in a breath, oh dear _fuck, where are your hands going Sam Winchester!_ Pushing those hands away was a pointless feat, because Sam Winchester was a giant moose of a man, and holy fuck, when the man wanted to, he could hold Gabriel down – willingly mind you, - and do whatever the fuck he wanted with him.

_No, Gabriel Novak. You need to focus._

Those lips were trailing over his neck, sucking on his collarbone, and lathing his skin as if he were tasting him. Sweet mother of all that was holy, what was Gabriel even talking about any more?

Focus, for fucks sakes.

“N-not that I’m not— _hooo, boy_ – not that I don’t like the attention, big guy,” Gabriel tried, damn it all to hell, he tried all right, but the man was on a mission, and it seemed his mission was to make sure Gabriel had a string of hickies and marks all along his neck and collar. “But we really gotta stop,”

Sam paused, looking up into Gabriel, his complicated eyes, like a god damn a sunflower bursting from the middle and shining on his day, they looked so dark, so dreamy, and so _naughty._ “You don’t really want me to, do you baby?”

Gabriel forced himself to not succumb to those eyes, to that kiss bruised mouth, and those pretty pinked cheeks, he forced his hands to stay far away from that head of hair, though he was desperate to tangle his fingers in them and see if they were as soft as they looked.

Sam was calling him baby.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Okay, baby,” he retaliated, pushing at Sam. When the man didn’t budge, Gabriel snapped his fingers and suddenly Sammy 2.0 was lifted from him, hovering just a few inches away from his body, arms strung up of his head and legs spread below him, stopping him from reaching. The second Sam was then pushed into a wayward chair, one that had – in Mickey Mouse Fantasia style – walked over to them and settled onto the linoleum. “You’re gonna stay there, while I figure this out,”

Gabriel looked over to the original Sam, seeing he was still sleeping peacefully on the plush of the booth. Then to the other Sam, who was struggling a little, looking down to his bound by magic hands and grinning.

“I didn’t think you were into this kind of thing,” he grinned, his eyes still that lusty dark burst sunflower.

Yeah, he was going to ignore _that._ Nothing productive would come out of him thinking about Sam and him and…

He reached for his phone first, the incessant ringing still going as he did so. He knew there were only a handful of people who actually _called_ him. He looked at the caller ID and actually let out a smile. Castiel could help him figure out just what the hell was happening.

“Cassie, you gotta help me,” Gabriel said, raising the phone to his ear and not letting his little brother talk at all. Castiel was a strong witch, he had all sorts of strengths and magic, and though Gabriel was strong in his own right, his magic was woven within his things, Castiel’s magic wasn’t.

And Castiel had all those books and things, he was bound to know just what the hell this whole thing was. Right?

“I could say the same thing,” Castiel’s voice was a little bit choppy, followed by a loud thudding as if something had hit the ground behind him. Gabriel heard Castiel yell Dean’s name, before something else seemed to have fallen onto the ground, something sounding more fragile and glass like.

“What the hell is happening over there?” Gabriel asked, but quickly shook his head. He had to prioritise right now. “No, wait, look, something happened to Sam, there’s two of him,”

“You too?” Castiel replied, and Gabriel’s eyes widened. What did he mean by _you too?_ “Do you have them both?”

“Yeah, they’re both…” he took a look at them both, seeing that they were, in some way safe and contained. “Yeah, I have them both,”

“Okay, get them to the cabin. We need to figure out what—” Castiel started to say, but then Gabriel heard a few more weird sounds, followed by something that sounded a lot like Dean and then a whole lot of crashing before the phone was suddenly cut off.

“Cassie? Castiel?” Gabriel said into the phone, but all he heard was the dial tone. Oh great, this was going to be just great. How the hell was he going to get Sleepy Sammy and Sexy Sammy into his car without any problems?

Castiel didn’t sound surprised that there were two Sam’s…

**Author's Note:**

> ...what is happening?  
>  We will find out in the next chapter!


End file.
